Don't hunger, he said:
//mama doesn't love me.
Mama says she does, but mama is too busy for me.
She sits and plays with me like a doll.
Dresses me up and then changes my clothes.
She holds out her hands and sobs, brushes over the bruises she made.
Mama stopped crying when I was thirteen.
Mama stopped caring before I grew into me.
Mama said I'm too much like father to bear.
So I prayed to the cross in her bedroom, to the picture of god she framed,
To let me be the person
So mama wouldn't be ashamed
But I guess god doesn't listen
Or I didn't pray hard enough
I guess that led me to stop believing
(When mama said she didn't love me anymore.)
Days passed like weeks do
and I grew frail and sick,
infested with her fears
and hunger.
I changed when I was fourteen 'cause mama kept changing too.
I found that change is a bad thing,
But there's comfort in the bad,
Even though mama said I'm bad,
And there's no comfort in me.
There's a comfort in the people I've used to forget.
People turned into cigarettes,
Cigarettes turned into too much for me to bear.
mama said she loved me when I almost died
But when I woke up to see her
Looming over me
She'd looked at me full of resent
And told me that she'd rather have seen
Me die in that sleep.
I carry a cross on my back
'cause the maybe god will see me
and look
instead of listen
So I will save my prayers
for another day.
